A Shining Moment
by shadowstar2567
Summary: All of reality is focused on a center: The Void. Two beings from the void send a seemingly regular teenage girl across the space of time and existence, sending her to all sorts of dimensions, in search of power. Along the way, the girl will make friends, and alter timelines. But what is the endgame to all this? And is the true plot bigger than anyone could imagine?
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey guys! This is a rewrite of my original story. This will include all sorts of movies and books, and while at first some may be more centralized than others, as the story continues a lot of other worlds will be added. I hope you guys enjoy the ride! :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the overall plot and my own OCs.

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Prologue

The Void

It was not simply a void, endless and absent of life. It _was_ life: all of it, its very core. A universe unlike any other, undetectable by most, seen only by few. Hardly any physical lifeforms existed within this dimension. Those who did learned, and understood, the meaning of all.

Two of these beings were surveying a specific universe now through a glowing blue square. They could survey them all through their own individual squares, of which there was an endless multitude. These squares seemed to drift endlessly, as did the void's inhabitants, though they could control themselves rather better; once adjusted to the climate of this vast darkness, they could direct themselves in the path they chose to take, and by will of mind propel themselves forward. It was almost like swimming, only without waving arms and legs about.

The two beings of focus here were shrouded by mystery. No one knew who they were, or from whence they came. They hardly spoke to anyone but the other, and were constantly arguing. Occasionally they battled. One was more hot-headed than the other, but each bore a remarkable temper, and neither was one to cross, especially when in a foul mood.

Both glowed their own colors: one red, the other blue. They each had wings, too, the red's being more crooked while the blue's more elegant. If it hasn't yet been guessed, the red being was the hot-tempered one. The being of blue was wiser and more patient; however, he was at the moment rather cross with the turn of events taking place in the blue square before them, and with his fellow.

"Should we not stop them?" he asked, the question more rhetorical than to be taking literally. The red being still answered, his expression monotone.

"This is what fate has decreed. We cannot change these course of events."

The blue being scoffed. "We may as of yet have found no exit from this void, but we are still powerful enough to alter circumstances beyond it. We can—"

 _"No."_ The red glared at him. "This is how things _must_ be. You can feel it."

The blue withheld a sigh. Of course Red (as he nicknamed the other, for his glowing hue) had to be right. The events of today would forever alter the course of history. Brutal in nature, and much against his morals, yes. But necessary. Absolutely necessary.

He watched the course of events with a look of distaste. "Those brutes will need to be dealt with," he muttered.

"Indeed." Red chuckled. Blue glanced at him sideways.

"What's with that laugh?" he questioned, immediately suspicious.

"Oh, nothing. Just anticipation for their imminent punishment."

"That is, if _she_ does not punish them first."

At that, Red chuckled outright, his laughter echoing across the void.

"Oh my, Blue," he finally gasped. "You can _not_ be serious. _Her_ fight _them_?"

Blue frowned. "Is that not the purpose of letting this be? For her manner to be changed? For her to gain the confidence required to fulfill our tasks?"

"Yes," Blue consented, "but not that much. No, she could never become so cold-hearted."

"Those beasts deserve it," Blue stated coldly.

"See? Cold-hearted." Red bared his fangs in a wicked grin.

Blue shook his head, unable to understand his companion sometimes.

Silence reigned the void once more as the two resumed watching through the glowing blue square. When everything that had been predicted to happen had occurred, when the unfolding sequence of events at last ended, they turned away from the square simultaneously, as one.

"Let us greet the girl," Red said.

"It is time," Blue said with a nod, for once agreeing with his compatriot.

As the girl floated aimlessly through space, she did not initially comprehend where she was. All her mind seemed to be capable of was replaying the same horrific events that had just occurred through the last few days, over and over.

Over and over.

It was some time before a pair of beings greeted her, whose forms she could not discern, for her vision was blurry from all she had endured. At length, a sensation rippled through her: something cool slipped around her, caressing her body. The air, she realized. Or, rather, lack of it. She did not pause to wonder how she could breathe without air as sustenance; much of her did not care at the moment.

With a shudder at the sudden cold, she drew her naked body into the fetal position and embraced herself. She began floating upside down—if upside down even existed as a position here. Everything seemed to stretch on endlessly. She could perceive, dimly, glowing blue squares all around. No, not all of them were blue, she realized. Some of them were tinged with green.

She turned her attention back to the beings, and realized they were speaking to her. Their mouths were moving, but for some reason she could not hear the words they formed. She could not hear anything but a high-pitched whine, like a ceaseless bell.

They appeared to move slowly towards her, as though moving through thick water. At last she heard some deep vibration. A voice! She strained to hear, mentally pushed her ears to listen, and eventually she could discern separate syllables and words. The beings seemed to understand her distress, and were repeating themselves until she could at last make out what they were saying.

"Are you all right? How do you feel?"

"Awful," she tried to say, and she was amazed that the word could get out at all; her voice was a cracked whisper.

"Do not speak," instructed one of the beings, the one hued of blue. "You will strain yourself."

 _I don't understand,_ she thought instead, staring at them. _Who are you? Where am I? What is going on?_

"I can see the confusion clear in your eyes," the blue being said, taking another step forward. "All will be clear soon enough."

 _All will be clear?_ She struggled to right herself, as the two of them seemed to have no problem of doing in spite of the lack of gravity in this space, but failed as she continued to drift. Neither being held her to qualms about it.

The blue being approached her (and he instilled her with more confidence than his fellow, as he seemed less angry and more approachable) and touched her head gently. Instantly her mind cleared, as did all her other sensations. She blinked once and stared up at him. His eyes were a glowing yellow, and she could not read the expression in them, but she thought she could have detected a flash of sympathy, just for an instant.

Also at his touch, clothes began to form around her body: a T-shirt, a jacket (pre-zipped), jeans, sneakers, and gloves. She had forgotten her nudity and didn't feel shameful of it until now, when she blushed. The beings, however, seemed not to care if she was wearing clothes or not. Then again, they wore nothing, either, but they lacked certain genital parts; she wondered what species they were, and where they came from.

"We cannot keep you here," the blue one told her gently. "But we shall explain everything shortly. For now, try to act unsuspiciously, and do not behave extravagantly at whatever you behold."

"Although you may like what you see, depending on the circumstances," added the red being. She could not tell if he was being serious or not, but a certain degree of mirth was held in his eyes, which were a glowing orange.

She began to feel herself slipping away from this realm. Before she could entirely, she found the strength, just barely, to ask:

"Who…are you?"

The beings gave no reply.

And the girl was again lost to space and time.

"Will she be capable?" asked Blue after the girl had vanished through a portal nearby one of the many glowing squares.

"Will she be capable?" Red repeated. "Do not tell me you sympathize."

"Do you hold no feelings whatsoever?" Blue met the others mirth-filled glance with a glare.

Red's grin spread wider. "The girl will serve as a tool, nothing more. The honing of her has just begun. After some time we will readjust our grip, and she shall prove to function correctly and efficiently. As any tool should. You cannot sympathize with a tool."

"She is alive, though," Blue said softly.

"And?" Red asked, expression daring the other to continue. Blue did without hesitation.

"She is with a conscience, and thought. She will likely rebel."

"Well then," Red smirked, "we'll just have to teach her not to."

"And reduce her brains to jelly? You do not wish for that. Otherwise your chance, as well as mine, will be forever lost."

"I am well adept in the methods of torture and interrogation, as are you." He extended a hand to Blue, the other arm crossed over his chest. "It will be simple to educate her without damaging her terribly."

Blue wished he did not consent with Red's reasoning, but it was fact. If the girl proved troublesome, they would have to teach her who her superiors were, and without preamble.

"Very well," he said. "I will assist you, however, to ensure you do not get yourself carried away." The message in his tone was clear. Blue did not have to glare for Red to understand.

Red nodded. "I am glad we can come to an agreement, old friend."

Blue ignored the dripping sarcasm in the other's voice and turned to the square nearest, in which he could view the girl without her knowledge. She was already in trouble. He withheld a sigh.

This process, he mused, was going to be a difficult one indeed.


	2. Welcome to the Bayverse

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the overall plot and my own OCs.

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Chapter 1

Welcome to the Bayverse

(The Beginning of Her Journey)

Blue eyes pierced the day's cloudy atmosphere. The hair on his skin perked up at the cool air, the water it could sense about to pour down in sheets from the gray mass above. Why must today be stormy? he thought to himself, his feet slipping on the wet ground, victim to puddles from an earlier shower. He nearly tripped almost constantly, as it was taught from childhood not to run in rainy weather unless you wanted to sport scabbed skin and bruises, but years of experience of running from bullies accustomed him to the practice of balancing himself and keeping from tripping. A survival skill which was coming in pretty handy now.

He was not running from a bully, however. No, indeed. If only it were that simple. No, he was running from a psychotic killer who wanted nothing more than to kill him in the most brutal way possible to make him pay for what happened back in Mission City roughly a year ago.

And was it _his_ fault, really, for destroying the spark of the Decepticon leader by thrusting the AllSpark into his chest, in the process destroying it as well?

Well, yes, technically. But Sam hadn't known exactly what would happen if he did so, and besides, he had only been defending himself. Himself and the entire planet from falling into the Decepticons' grasp. And thanks to his noble work, now one of Megatron's subordinates—perhaps his most devoted follower (though at this time Sam knew not of Shockwave or Soundwave)—was chasing after him, all focus on destroying the miserable insect who had cast the Decepticons into desolation thanks to his single act.

If Sam could go back in time and redo the Battle of Mission City, would he have done anything differently?

No, he supposed not. But now was not the time to ask himself philosophical questions. Now was the time to get the hell on out of here before Barricade caught up to him and smashed him to a pulp.

If only Bumblebee was here, Sam lamented. But the yellow-and-black-striped Autobot—his most faithful companion and guardian—was off on a mission with a group of his fellow Autobots and humans, who together helped form a small portion of N.E.S.T., an organization dedicated to protect the Earth from hostile extraterrestrial lifeforms. The mission entailed driving off, if not all-out eliminating, rogue Decepticons who remained on the planet after the Battle of Mission City, but that was all Sam knew of it.

Of course, though, this mission had to take place when Barricade suddenly decided to off him. And maybe that was why Barricade had chosen this day to kill Sam: he knew Bumblebee would not be available to protect him.

Sam gritted his teeth as he hopped over a truck and cut around a house and through some backyards, losing sight of the Decepticon in pursuit (who was currently in his alt form, a police cruiser with the words "To punish and enslave" emblazoned on the side), and, in effect, cutting himself off from his pursuer's view.

He hopped a fence and crashed down on the other side, not anticipating the jolt sent up his legs from the impact of jumping down from several feet off the ground. He just managed not to fall over completely, even with the weight of his backpack, and quickly scrambled to his feet and continued on.

He had been on his way to the bicycle rack after school was let out for the day. Since 'Bee was not present, he had to take his mom's bike to and from school. (He ignored the catcalls aimed at him for riding around on a pink bike; by now he knew there were worse things to endure.) And, unfortunately, Mikaela, his girlfriend, was at home sick with a cold. So here he was, on his own, trying to get to the bicycle rack so he could get home at a decent time to avoid being yelled at by his mom (his dad was by far more lenient, and only participated in daily lectures when his wife gave him the death glare), when a police cruiser cut him off. It did not take him long to notice the motto and the Decepticon logo on the side facing him, or the holoform sitting behind the wheel, flickering in and out intermittently, but imperceptibly enough so that only Sam could see due to his short distance to the "police officer".

After realizing he was in deep Mojo (a term he'd come up with when he was younger and had ever since used to replace "deep doo-doo"), Sam took off in the other direction, ignoring the odd glances cast in his direction by his fellow students, and not daring to turn around once after hearing the cruiser's rumble as it began to give chase.

 _Of course this would all happen today,_ Sam grumbled under his breath. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and stopped behind a tree, periodically checking around himself as he dialed the number to contact 'Bee. He held the phone up to his ear, and a dull ringing went off over and over. Then a feminine voice said, "We're sorry, but the phone number you are trying to connect with cannot be reached at this time. Please try again—"

Sam ended the call, then tried again, more frantically this time. When the message came up again, Sam left a voice message. "Bee, you've gotta come help me. That guy named Barricade? He's after me, likely because he wants me to pay after what I did to Megatron in Mission City a year ago. Now I know you have a lot to deal with right now, too, what with catching a renegade Decepticon and all, but I would really appreciate it if you could get this message and get to me as soon as possible."

Normally this would be a ridiculous order to make out, considering that Bumblebee was all the way across the globe. But in the year prior, with the permission and the assistance of the U.S. government, who provided the tools necessary to construct such a feat of science, Ratchet had been able to build a temporary Groundbridge. It was a teleportation device that could transport Autobots and humans to any point around the globe, which was very useful for hasty retreats or if mischief was being caused elsewhere by troublesome 'Cons.

Sam pocketed his phone and left it on vibrate, so that he could feel if Bumblebee or anyone else was attempting to contact him, and to keep Barricade from hearing it go off so, if Sam were caught in some troublesome predicament, the Decepticon would be less likely to think of relinquishing the device from him to keep him from calling for help.

He heard a screech of tires, and took off once again. He dodged trash cans, some overflowing and some knocked over so he had to hurdle over them—an impressive feat for him, being of lanky and not-at-all athletic figure. A dog tethered by its leash to a post by a doghouse barked at him, and Sam had flashbacks of similar looking dogs chasing after him before Bumblebee came in to save the day—although at that time Sam had thought the Autobot was someone who might cause him harm, as he had already seen the 'Bot transform, but had yet to learn the truth of his origins.

This dog did not have the strength to unleash itself from the post, and Sam was long gone by the time the owner came outside to check "what all this racket is about".

A cat slinked down a street, eyeing him disdainfully with luminescent green eyes. The streets were getting narrower, and as drops cascaded from the sky, more deserted. _Gotta find shelter,_ Sam thought, eyes darting frantically about. He turned a corner—and ran smack into someone who was running in his direction.

They both cried out and fell back. Their foreheads had collided, and they each massaged the spot, where there would most likely arise a bruise.

Sam looked up. The person he had run into, and who had run into him in return, was a girl. She looked about his age, maybe a little younger, with brown hair framing her face. Her eyes were a blue green—at least, he assumed both were, as the entire left side of her face was hidden behind some of her hair. She wore a jacket and gloves, although you didn't really need the latter for a rainy day. But were either of them for the weather? he wondered. The way she had been running almost looked like she had been escaping something. Or maybe he was just looking too deep into this.

"I'm sorry," she stammered before he could apologize, picking herself up. "Here," she said, extending a hand, "let me…" She trailed off and stared at him, eyes wide.

"Uh, are you okay?" Sam asked after a few awkward seconds, feeling immensely uncomfortable under her stare.

There was the vroom of an engine, and Sam didn't need to look around to know it belonged to Barricade. The girl looked up in that direction and her eyes widened even further. Was that…? Sam's eyes narrowed in scrutiny. Was that recognition that just flashed through her eyes right there? But how could she know about—?

 _Never mind, we gotta get out of here!_

Sam picked himself up and grabbed her by the wrist as he ran in the direction she had come from, pulling her along behind him. "Come on, we've gotta hide."

"Hide?" She looked at him, scrambling to keep from slipping from the combination of being pulled forward and the puddles littering the ground.

"Yeah. I can't explain anything right now, but you've gotta trust me. That 'cop' is bad news. In fact, he's not even a cop."

"Who is he?"

 _She's lying._

Sam stuffed this intuition down into the deep bowels of his mind for now. He would question her later, but first they must locate a safe spot to hide from the predator growling on their trail.

"Wager a guess," he said instead, and pulled her along even faster.

"Woah!" she cried out as she nearly fell over and brought him along for the fall.

"Sorry," he said, and released her so that she could more easily catch up to him. He should have done that sooner, he reflected, only grabbing onto her wrist to pull her to safety in case Barricade decided to target her as well. And that was now a definite fact. _Great._

They soon found an abandoned house, boarded up due to instability. Sam didn't want to enter a foundation that could at any time crumble upon their heads and bury them alive, but Barricade would catch up to them if they didn't hide somewhere. Also, the Decepticon may not think they would risk barricading (excuse the pun) themselves in someplace so potentially unstable.

They ducked inside, sliding between some boards, and scooted themselves beneath a windowsill. The storm was bad now. No one with a rational mind would be outside. No one human, anyway.

Underneath the dull rumble of thunder Sam could have sworn he heard the shifting of metal against metal, and silently swore. The girl looked at him, as if to ask what was wrong, but he silenced her with a gesture. Together, they pressed their backs against the wall and listened.

Footsteps reverberated up their bodies through the floor, and both of them tensed up in anticipation. Again, Sam studied the girl. She seemed to know exactly what was out there, and some idea of what was to become of them both. Who was she? he wondered.

The footsteps seemed to be approaching the house, and he held his breath, thinking this was a stupid plan and that they had hid for naught. But he shouldn't have berated himself so soon. Some moments later the footsteps faded away, and once they could no longer be heard, he allowed himself to sag visibly.

"He's elsewhere now. Likely thinks we cut across some backyards and are on one of the neighboring streets. He's risking a lot coming out in the open, though," he added with a frown. _Just to kill me? He hates me that much? Hate must not be a strong enough word for it then._

The girl adjusted her stance so that she knelt by the window and peered outside between the two lower boards. "The coast is clear," she whispered, and he nodded, deciding to resort to whispers for the time being, until they could be sure Barricade was totally gone. Who knew? He might decide to give up and try again another day.

And if he did that, Sam thought with relief, Bumblebee would be there then to protect him. He wouldn't want to be anywhere apart from his human friend if he thought he was in danger.

"All right," Sam said as the girl returned to a sitting position. "I have some questions."

"Oh?" she tried to ask, but her voice quavered slightly and it came more like a statement, sort of like a disappointed or miserable "Oh". She was looking at the floor, not at him.

"Please don't lie, okay?" he pleaded. "I've had enough on my plate today, so I'd really appreciate some honesty from you."

She nodded, apparently forcing herself to look at him. "I promise," she said, and something in her voice and face told him he could trust her.

"All right," he sighed, grappling with the questions in his mind. He decided to go with the simplest one first. "What's your name?"

"Cheyenne. Cheyenne Nicole Stevens."

"Okay. Age?"

"Seventeen, almost eighteen."

He blinked. "Wow. I thought you were younger than me by a couple of years."

She smiled awkwardly. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

"Cool, so you're name's Cheyenne and you're seventeen. All right, what were you running from, Cheyenne?"

"I wasn't running from anything," she said. "I was running towards something, though I didn't know what at the time. I just felt there was somewhere I needed to be and that it was urgent and so I ran and, well, bumped into you."

Sam frowned. This response didn't make sense, but again, he could tell she spoke the truth.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"Orlando, Florida."

"Really?"

"Yup. I was born in Florida, too, in Naples."

"You're a pretty long way from home," he said.

"A lot longer than you'd think," she added, more than a little uneasily.

"How do you know about Cybertronians?"

She winced, as though she had been expecting the question. She looked down at her hands and sighed. "It's going to sound crazy, but you'll have to trust me."

"Don't I already?"

She seemed to steel herself, then exhaled a breath and looked at him.

"I'm from an alternate universe where Transformers, as you call them, are nothing but fiction. All of this—you, Tranquility, everyone in this universe—are nothing more than a movie franchise, and there are alternate versions of Transformers, all in the forms of comics and TV shows and video games and so on."

She waited for his reaction.

All Sam could do was stare at her, dumbfounded.

She sighed. "It sounds unbelievable, I know."

"Are you serious?" He ran a hand up his face, through his hair. "You're…you're not kidding around are you?"

"Nope. Heh, heh."

"Wow. That means, I'm pretty famous there, aren't I?"

"Yeah, though the actor that plays you is kinda crazy. Seems nice enough, though. A little…out there, to say the least. Although that's not always a bad thing."

"Wow," he said again. "You're not joking. You're serious. I don't know if I should be freaking out or super excited about this."

"Sam?" she said, as he was not looking at her but at the floor in wide-eyed bewilderment. "Are you all right?"

"Oh yeah, fine. Just had my whole worldview shattered, but yeah. I'm fine."

She blushed. "Sorry."

"What? What are you apologizing for? You didn't do anything wrong? At least, not that I know of. Which reminds me," he said, suddenly eager to change the subject, wanting to process this newfound information later when he had a calmer head, "why are you wearing such long clothing."

"Oh, um." She was no longer looking at him. "I'm not allowed to say."

He frowned and leaned forward. "What do you mean you're not allowed to say? I'm sure it's nothing…"

He stopped, as she was shying away from him now, one arm clutching the other elbow, wearing an expression of discomfort. He realized he was stepping into something personal and decided not to press the subject. Some questions, he decided, were better left unasked.

"All right," he said. "I'm sorry. I won't ask you again if that makes you uncomfortable."

She just nodded.

He bit his lip, screwing up his eyebrows. There was still at least one more question he wanted to ask her.

"Do you mind if I ask one more question?"

She looked at him, then shook her head.

"Why are you here? If you're from an alternate universe, an alternate Earth, where we're all fictitious, then why are you here?"

"I honestly have no clue," she told him. "One moment I was…" She moved her mouth, but no sound came out. She frowned. "That's odd." She tried again, but was unable to say what it was she wanted to convey. She scratched her head, puzzled. "Well, one moment I was in my dimension undergoing some, er, stuff, and the next I was floating in this void and there were these two beings and one of them gave me these clothes, and the next I crash-land into a trash can, causing it to fall over and alert the neighbors. They yelled out at me for trespassing and I hurried off. And that's when I had that feeling, of running towards you. That's what I must have sensed—that you were in trouble."

"Woah, woah, void? Stuff? This is crazy."

"I'm not making it up," she said.

"No, not that kind of crazy. I believe you. After all, look at my life. Oh wait, you already have. You know what I mean."

She stiffened.

Sam was immediately on alert. "What is it?"

"Footsteps. Like before. I think Barricade's coming back."

Sam listened and heard it too. "We were too loud," he hissed.

"Either that or he figured out we couldn't have gone that far," Cheyenne said.

"Or maybe it's Bumblebee and he's here to help," Sam said, and reached for his phone. He hadn't felt it vibrate, but maybe it had gone off without his noticing. Or then, maybe not. He frowned, disappointed, at his blank screen. But then again, he thought, stowing away his phone, Bumblebee would not be so reckless, coming out of hiding to search for him and make sure he was all right and unharmed by Barricade.

"No," Cheyenne whispered, and that affirmed his belief.

Together, they listened again to the sounds of the predator outside. Lightning cracked. At the same time, the roof disappeared, being ripped off by a massive servo. Rain slashed down and drenched them, quickly sticking their clothes to their skin. Illuminated even through the densely pouring rain and in the dark, cloudy air, was a pair of malevolent glowing optics about fifteen feet above them.

Their owner chuckled darkly. Sam grabbed Cheyenne's arm.

"He won't come after you if he has me," he muttered. "Get out while you can."

"I'm not going to run," she said stubbornly.

"Listen," he said turning to her. "Do you want to—"

A large servo pointed with razor sharp claws came swinging down towards them, presumably to catch Sam. The boy was prepared to push Cheyenne out of the way, but then she grabbed onto his wrist. Before he could ask what she was doing—before he could act at all—they suddenly disappeared from the site in a flash of light, and the servo came down upon empty air.

* * *

Darkness. It enveloped him in waves, flooding him, drowning him, trapping him, keeping him from moving a single limb, a single inch. What was this? he wondered, having just emerged from unconsciousness. His thoughts drowsy, his processor was unable to think properly, and so he could not recall where he was, or how he had come to be here. And what was this here? An inky cage, constricting him to a single position and obstructing all his senses, including visual and auditory.

No, he realized, that was not quite true. Perhaps it had been a moment before, but now he could feel something pressing against his body, both malleable yet firm, almost to the point of being solid. Maybe this effect only occurred to him because of his drowsiness, and this cage in which he was ensnared. And what a cage this was, he thought, equally fascinated and disconcerted (for he would never admit fear, even to himself).

Suddenly, it was as if a light switch had been flicked from off to on. His surroundings were at once visible to him, in stark and astonishing detail. He blinked his optics, then swept his gaze across the ocean floor.

 _Ocean?_ Some sort of Earth creature—a fish, he believed it was called—swam lazily into his field of vision before disappearing from sight.

Then, all at once, it came to him. The battle of Mission City; his fight with Optimus; the annoying yet admirable persistence of that pesky insect; and his own death at the hands of said insect.

Now he remembered, and he roared in rage. It barely caught him by surprise that he could now roar, but once his moment of rage passed, he determined this meant that his motor skills were beginning to function once more.

He shifted his peds, one, then the other. They both moved easily, without a hint of drowsiness. His processor was completely clear, and his goal was true. Anger and determination took their hold, and stimulated him into propping himself up, then standing up completely.

Here, in one of this accursed planet's oceans, his body had been dumped to rust and be forgotten. It must be their deepest, he mused, for otherwise his Decepticons would have surely come for him by now.

Which begged the question: Who or what had revived him?

He carefully scrutinized his surroundings, but there was nothing to indicate another intelligence (the marine animals swimming lazily through these dense waters were to him no more than passing debris). He frowned, his terrifying visage turning the expression into a snarl, and he opened his maw to speak, to demand for answers.

"You need not shout, Megatron. We are right here."

The voice—a mixture of high and low, unidentifiable, undistinguishable from one voice to the other—came from right behind him.

Megatron whirled around, but there was no one to be seen.

"Explain yourself," he demanded, in a quieter tone this time, although this was not much as his tone was still close to a yell.

"We mean what we say. We exist where you exist. We are right here."

"I am in no mood for your mind games," Megatron snarled. "Reveal yourselves!"

"That, I am afraid, we cannot do. Only one may see us at the present. But I digress."

"There are some things we can tell you, however, that will grab your attention rather attentively, we think." This was spoken by the second, which Megatron knew not by sound—for the voice sounded no different than the other—but by some instinctual sense.

"Very well," he agreed, as he had little choice in the matter; it would do him no good to pursue an argument. "Explain to me what you will."

And so the two beings, unseen yet unmistakably powerful, wove him a tale that at first he could barely conceive, and then, once he understood what it was they claimed to be truth, he was immediately doubtful.

"Why should I believe any of this?" he interrupted at a pause in their story. "Multiple dimensions spanning a sea of infinite measure, and that we live in one of these dimensions, one droplet in a vast sea. The very idea is preposterous."

"Is it?" Whichever being spoke seemed to be raising an eyebrow at him. "We knew you were stubborn, but not to this degree, Megatron."

"Do not patronize me," he warned, but they left his threat unheeded; as powerful as they were, they had no cause for alarm. Instead, they continued with their explanation, of which the Decepticon leader found less and less believable by the detail. Yet they spoke with utter conviction that a small, almost imperceptible portion of him felt compelled to believe them; but he stilled that part of himself. It was the most ridiculous story he had ever heard. Why should he be compelled to believe it?

"You still do not believe." The being sounded unsurprised.

"No, I do not," spoke Megatron. He glared up at the space ahead of him, where he was sure the beings dwelled, even though he could find not a hint of their forms—that is, if their forms were indeed physical. It was always possible they were spiritual beings rather than material; he had heard of such lifeforms.

"Very well. Then let us show you rather than attempt to explain."

And all at once he was consumed by images, and noises, smashing into him over and over, until the knowledge being presented to him neared the brink of intolerability.

Then, at last, it was over, and he was left to pant and kneel on the sea bed, supporting himself with one servo, barely able to keep himself upright even in that position. For what mental strain that had been, to witness and process and accept all of that incredible information! He could still scarcely believe what it was he had just been shown.

But he knew it was all true. Something within him rang out that truth as undeniable, no matter how far-fetched it may have seemed.

"I must return to my fellow Decepticons," he announced to the beings, who were expecting this response. "They must learn of this insect, and of the potential victory it could sway in our favor." He was hesitant to add, "Will you assist me if they do not believe?"

"We do not believe our assistance will be necessary. Your words, Megatron, are even more powerful than your might."

Reassured by this affirmation, he nodded, and activated his thrusters. He shot up and through the ocean, scattering sea life all around, and broke through the surface. He swiftly transformed into a jet and soared above the clouds through the heavens. Already he knew his destination, thanks to the coordinates the beings had provided him.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys! So this chapter is a little bit slow and serious, but as the chapters progress (I hope) the story and characters will carry on a little bit more smoothly. Also, I apologize if any of the characters seem OC, so any helpful pointers would be much appreciated! :)**

 **I hope you enjoy!**


	3. Questions and Leadership

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the overall plot and my own OCs.

* * *

Chapter 2

Questions and Leadership

"What was that?" Sam demanded. They were in his bedroom. Something that looked like a portal—hued green and swirling, much like a Groundbridge only without the tinges of blue—had whisked them away from imminent danger and deposited here. Sam had landed roughly on the floor, toppling over the edge of the bed while the girl landed neatly atop his covers.

"I'm not entirely sure," she mused, looking at the spot before the window from which they'd been sprung.

"What do you mean, you're not sure?" Sam asked, growing increasingly frustrated. "You grabbed me. You obviously knew what was going to happen."

"Yes," she said hesitantly, but in a manner that suggested that Sam was not entirely correct. "But only a moment before. It's like…the beings told me, an instant before they created that portal and sent us here."

"Wait, _they_ did that?"

She nodded.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," said Sam, clutching his hair.

"Sorry," said Cheyenne.

He looked at her. "What are you apologizing for? You didn't create that portal, did you?"

"No."

"And you're not the one who decided to come into my world and turn my life upside down, right?"

"Right, but—"

"Then there's nothing to apologize about." He threw his hands up into the air. "It looks like these guys—these beings or whatever—need you for something, and they sent you here for that specific purpose. And they won't let you mention certain things."

"It's weird," she said. "It's like having an invisible hand being shoved against my mouth."

"Go on, try again," Sam said, leaning forward.

"What?"

"Try telling me what you wanted to say before."

She frowned, then screwed up her concentration and tried, but again, her mouth opened and no sound was emitted.

"I don't like this," she said.

"I'd be concerned if you did," Sam said, trying to lighten the mood. It was helpful to make witty comments in situations such as this to keep from going insane. That was how he dealt with the rest of his life, Autobots and Decepticons included.

"They told me they don't want you or anyone else to know. Not until they deem it time."

Sam frowned. "You can hear them?" he asked.

She nodded. "I can see them, too. It's like they're here, but in the void at the same time. They're right there, floating cross-legged." She pointed towards his window. She could see them, just before it, in the position she described, but all Sam could see was empty air.

"I don't see them," he told her.

"They must only want me to hear and see them for now," she deduced.

"Seems like it. Oh, shoot!" He startled Cheyenne by leaping up from his bed, causing the mattress to bounce slightly.

"What is it?" she asked.

"My parents are going to be furious that I'm home late! Especially in this weather." The sheets of rain outside were as strong as ever and showed no signs of letting up.

"If you explained what happened…" Cheyenne began. Sam shook his head.

"Maybe, but they'll still be mad. And how am I going to explain you, or ending up in my bedroom without sneaking past them? Although I'd have failed at that—they would be listening for me to come home."

"We can just tell them the truth."

He stared at her, wide-eyed.

"Are you kidding me?" he hissed. "They already have difficulty accepting an autonomous car as part of the family. When I tell them about a dimension-jumper…"

She shrugged. "How bad could it possibly be?'

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth, not looking at her.

"All right," he said. "All right. I'll go downstairs, tell them everything, and then when they and you are ready, you can come downstairs and meet them. All right?"

She nodded, though she looked nervous about it in spite of it being her idea.

"Right," he said, as if to reassure himself. "Just stay here and don't touch anything."

"I won't," she promised, watching him leave the room hurriedly.

She let out a sigh, extremely worried, more so than she had let on. She glanced at the beings.

"What are you up to?" she asked, no conviction or venom in her voice, just exhaustion. "Why am I here? Who are you?"

"Those are questions to be answered at another time," Blue said, and she had to be satisfied with that.

At first the Witwicky's freaked out when Sam explained what had happened. They bombarded him with questions (well, mostly his mother did, red in the face from yelling; his dad wasn't laidback about it, but at least he was behaving more reasonably), many of them he could not answer.

"She's up there, then?" Judy asked, pointing at the ceiling.

"Yeah, mom, but there's no reason to be so worried. She seems nice. A little awkward, maybe even a bit shy."

"I don't know how I feel about her being in the house," Judy replied, crossing her arms and a steely glint in her eyes.

"At least give a chance to meet her," Sam pleaded.

Ron shrugged. "Might as well. I'm curious about this girl. And you know Sam's judgement is well-rounded, Judes."

"Don't call me that," Judy snapped abruptly.

"Fine," Ron said, with what Sam thought was a barely suppressed eye roll. "Let's just talk to her first, though. Get to know her."

She bit her lip for a moment, then relented. "Oh, fine. I'll give her a chance. But I'm keeping a close eye on her, you hear?" She looked pointedly at Sam.

He hurried upstairs to retrieve Cheyenne, and she came down slowly, shyly, behind him, doing her best not to stray her gaze from his parents' eyes.

"Hello," she said in a soft voice, smiling embarrassedly. "My name's Cheyenne. It's nice to meet you both."

Judy's demeanor completely changed when she saw the girl with her own eyes. The suspicion in her eyes faded somewhat, and the muscles in her arms relaxed.

"What were you expecting, Judes?" Ron whispered into her ear, pretending to forget that she did not like being called that. "An alien robot?"

 _"Ron,"_ she said in warning, and he shut up, but allowed a flitting smile to bridge his lips.

"You must be Cheyenne," Judy said, extending a hand in greeting, as if she would be speaking to anybody else. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Cheyenne accepted the hand and smiled broadly, and Judy began to think that perhaps she had judged the girl too quickly. She certainly didn't _seem_ like any trouble.

Ron shook hands with her, too, and they invited her into the living room to talk. Mostly they asked about her previous life—her home, her family and friends, and Cheyenne talked animatedly, often expressing her emotions by waving her arms, almost subconsciously. As she spoke, a question occurred to Sam, but he decided it would not be right to voice it.

His mother, however, did not consider this and went ahead with, "So, Cheyenne, when do you think you will be getting home?"

Cheyenne's smile disappeared and a look of melancholy fell over her. "I don't know if I'll ever be going back there," she said, not looking at any of them and instead focusing her gaze intently on the coffee table. "I don't know these beings' intent, but I doubt they'll just let me go."

Judy immediately apologized for bringing it up, but the girl smiled and said it was no problem. Sam admired the way that she covered up her fear and sadness so easily, to keep the others unconcerned about her. Just at that moment, his phone rang, vibrating in his pocket.

He jumped, and stared at it, wondering who would be calling him. His parents and Cheyenne watched as he fumbled with the phone, nearly dropping it in his haste to pull it out. He flipped it open and his eyes widened when he saw who was calling him.

"It's 'Bee!" he exclaimed.

"Oh?" Judy said. "How is…?"

She was cut off by a silencing finger from Sam, and they listened as he said, "Hey 'Bee! What's…no, I'm fine….Yeah, he was, but it's okay, I'm fine now, I'm at home and he's nowhere in sight….Yes," he said with a bit of a sigh, "I'm sure. You know, you may be my guardian, but you're a little over-protective sometimes, 'Bee….Not that I'm complaining…! Right, right, okay. Great. See you then."

He put his phone away and noticed their staring faces.

"He knows about Barricade. You know N.E.S.T., that new organization where human military and Autobots team up to fight Decepticons who are still on Earth? Well, they detected an Energon signal in this area, and told Bumblebee about it. He would have just come here through a Groundbridge, but then the signal disappeared, so he called me to check that I'm all right. I didn't get a chance to tell him about you, though," he said, looking at Cheyenne, "but he's coming over, so he'll learn soon enough."

"All right," she said, trying not to squirm. She felt nervous and very excited about meeting an Autobot for the first time. Then she thought of Barricade, and wondered what he had thought when she and Sam had disappeared quite literally from under his grasp. Perhaps that was what prompted him to leave; he believed that this would make his search more difficult, although undoubtedly he was very much confused.

It wasn't a few seconds later when they heard a loud honk from the driveway, and Sam broke into a grin. He looked like his older brother was coming home after a long absence; for that was his relationship with Bumblebee, they viewed each other as siblings. Bumblebee, of course, was the older one, being thousands upon thousands of years older than Sam. But he might as well have only been a few years older, as he wasn't the most mature of 'Bots.

"Come on," Sam said to Cheyenne, "let's go meet him."

"Nuh-uh, not in the rain," Judy interjected.

"He'll be in the garage, mom," Sam protested. "Cheyenne and I can just run real quick to it and we can bring an umbrella if that makes you feel any better. We'll only be out in it for a few seconds."

Judy only relented after an argument with Ron and her son for about few minutes. Cheyenne waited quietly out of the way until they came to a consensus, and Sam grabbed an umbrella and led her outside to the garage.

The throne was carved from Cybertronian metal, the back elegantly shaped into a sharp-edged oval, the arms slightly rotund. It sat in the command center of one of the Decepticons' temporary Earth bases, and in its biggest one, which used to be a large warehouse of sorts until it had been…liberated from human use.

The throne, thought Barricade as he came in from the front entrance, was rather boastful for such an otherwise humble abode, but the Decepticon leader demanded nothing less. For perhaps the billionth time, the Decepticon scout had to keep an irritated exclamation from escaping his vents. How the slag did Starscream qualify to be the leader of their esteemed race? Oh, yes, because he had been Megatron's second-in-command before their beloved former leader had perished in Mission City; how he had become Megatron's second-in-command, Barricade thought he would never understand.

The Seeker was always complaining about something, although (Barricade admitted begrudgingly) he was not a bad leader. Not nearly the equivalent of Megatron, but still. He had kept their troops from being sighted by the Autobots or their human members at N.E.S.T. He had ordered and at some times led excavations for energy to be converted into Energon, and so far they had yet to be detected (although the Autobots must surely be suspicious of some of the more obvious incidents, they would not have gathered enough evidence to pinpoint the crime definitely against the Decepticons).

Starscream had also kept secret the arrival of new Decepticons onto the planet Earth. Their numbers were few, but they made far better progress with the newer arrivals. Barricade recognized some back in the old days of Cybertron, before the war had left their home world and traversed the stars. Only to end up here on this pathetic, dirty mud ball of a planet, he grumbled to himself.

"Back so soon?" sneered a high, whiny sort of voice. The only thing that kept Barricade from snapping back a snarky reply was the constant mental reminder he delivered to himself that Starscream was leader now, no matter how much he despised it, and that he must, at least for the time being, deliver the Seeker respect in his presence. Although that didn't stop him from insulting the Decepticon leader behind his back.

"Yes, my Lord," Barricade replied, keeping the sarcasm from his voice with great difficulty. Starscream could sense the hatred in his optics, however, but he made no comment about it.

"I thought you would be more successful in your mission," the Seeker continued, his tone derisive as he spoke. "How hard, after all, is it to capture one measly little human? And without his guardian?"

Barricade barely suppressed a growl. It had been Starscream who ordered the capture of Ladiesman217. He claimed he wanted to make the insufferable insect pay for destroying their Master and the Allspark, the source of all life on Cybertron, in one fell swoop. Everyone knew, though, that he was only angry because he wanted to get rid of Megatron himself.

"The human was not alone," Barricade said, meeting the Seeker's optics evenly. He refused to appear meek before him, even if he did feel rather abashed. "There was another with him."

"Oh?" Starscream raised an optic ridge. "And having _two_ insects to deal with made the task all the harder to complete?"

"No," Barricade said through gritted denta. "She…there was something different about that organic."

Starscream scoffed. "All humans are the same. Small, noisy, selfish and annoying. Merely pests to be squashed."

"I don't disagree. However," and Barricade paused, only briefly, before continuing, "this girl…she made them disappear in a flash of light. Much like a mini Groundbridge."

Starscream froze and stared at the scout for a long time. He had half a mind to slam him into the nearest wall for braying such nonsense. But another consideration gave him pause: Barricade may, in the lightest terms possible, severely dislike the Seeker, but he would never outright lie to him, and he would never tell such a ridiculous façade. Unless it were truth. As difficult as it was to accept it as such, based upon the facts he had just reviewed, there was no alternative.

"How could a human do this?" he mused to himself. "It must have had some advanced device. Cybertronian, obviously, seeing as no human technology could possess such a quality as teleportation." He looked sharply at Barricade. "What did it look like?"

"Young. Perhaps a few years younger than the boy. She wore a jacket and jeans and gloves, and the left side of her face was covered with brown hair."

"Did you see anything on her?"

"No, but that doesn't mean this device was concealed."

"So you agree then," Starscream realized.

"What else could it have been?" Barricade replied. "No human could do something like that on their own. It's impossible."

Starscream thought for a moment more before saying, "We will have to keep an eye on this human. If she has Cybertronian technology, she could pose a problem for us, no matter how young she appears. Unfortunately, she is with the Witwicky boy, who will undoubtedly be guarded by that pesky Autobot scout now that they've detected your Energon signal in the relative area." He glared at Barricade, who wanted to say something, but decided against it.

Starscream looked about to continue, but someone came rushing up. Crusher, a Decepticon only slightly smaller than Barricade, rushed up to them. "My Lord!" he said, snapping to attention and bowing to the Seeker.

"What is it?" Starscream snapped, annoyed.

"There is an incoming projectile heading straight for our location."

 _Slag!_ "What is it?"

"A jet, my Lord."

"Human?"

"No, Cybertronian."

Again, he swore. But then again, he thought, it was rare for an Autobot to fly. And for it to be on its own, heading so foolishly to an army of Decepticons….How would it have known about this base, anyway?

"It must be a Decepticon," Starscream said. "Did you scan?"

"Yes. And…" Crusher fidgeted, not meeting the Seeker's optics, as though he feared bringing the news he must deliver.

"Well?" Starscream said, practically yelling and causing the smaller Decepticon to flinch.

Crusher steeled himself to reply, but just then there was an uproar from the opposite end of the base. All three of them swung in that direction. The uproar…even from here, they could make out what it was exactly. But it couldn't be cheering.

"Why are they causing such a ruckus?" Starscream snarled.

"It's Megatron, sir," Crusher squeaked, refusing to look at him.

The Seeker turned to him, shock plastered across his faceplates. Even in his surprise, he clearly noted that the Decepticon hadn't referred to him as his Lord.

"What?" Starscream said, in a hushed voice, not believing what he had just heard.

"It's Megatron," Crusher repeated, finally turning to him. "He has returned."

An icy silence fell over the trio.

Barricade, unable to conceal his shocked glee leaned towards Starscream with a smirk.

"Well, looks like someone is screwed."


End file.
